Sting of the Scorpion's Kiss
by Infernal Blossom
Summary: THOSE GREEN EYES REWRITE! All Dante really wanted was a drink and a hot babe, so what harm was there in going to a bar? Didn't seem like a big deal...until his jobs started being sent to another hunter. So what happens when he confronts the person stealing his jobs, along with the arrival of a new demon? Hell truly breaks loose for him.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello dear fans, ~Infernal Blossom here. I'm re-writing _Those __Green_ _Eyes_, so you'll be able to enjoy this more than you did the first time. Plus, I'm a much better write than I was when this story debuted two years ago, so you'll definitely be able to enjoy it more. Tell me what you think of the changes~!**

**~Infernal Blossom**

Elenay City had certainly flourished a lot since Dante and Lady officially opened up Devil May Cry together when the two were just teenagers. Now, the city was booming with people, especially at nighttime. Many new clubs and bars had opened up, bringing in even more tourists and business than the city had ever seen. It was quite surprising to its residents to see such a boost in the city's economy and lifestyle. It was almost like Devil May Cry was a godsend for the citizens. And as everyone hoped, there were almost no demon uprisings, especially since Dante had returned from Fortuna. For once in his life, the demon slayer had a while to sit back and relax. But taking time to smell the roses wasn't Dante's style. He wanted action, any kind he could get his hands – or weapons – on. He would've been out on a job if his partners hadn't taken up all the available appointments. So he had nothing to but just sit in his office and look through one of the dirty magazines he'd looked through a thousand times before. He could try calling the ladies, but what were the chances of them answering him while on the job? Or he could clean his place, for once... Pfft. Yeah, right. What were the chances of THAT? And it wasn't like he was even able to get in contact with Nero; he'd been nearly MIA ever since moving in with Kyrie. Ah, what a woman can do to you once you're in love.

So Dante had no other choice. He would need to suck it up and party on his own. Whether he liked it or not, it beat staying another second in that office and doing nothing. Dante quickly ran over to a mirror and fixed himself up however he could before stepping out. The sun had just set, so Elenay City's nightlife was starting up rapidly. There were plenty of places open, plenty of options to cure his boredom. He just needed to find the right one.

After walking around for a short while, he saw a group of gorgeous twenty-something women running to get on line for a bar. The Crimson Flame. The line was pretty long, which meant the place must've been good. There was his spot. He followed the girls onto the line and waited for his chance to enter. Once inside the bar, he realized why the line was so long and took a while to move. The place was jam-packed. The inside looked more like a club than a bar. Tons of people were here – singles, couples, and some fairly large groups. At least he wouldn't feel like the only loser without a date or friends. He headed straight for the bar in the back and sat down on one of the stools, leaning his arms on top of the raised counter. His icy eyes caught sight of the bartender: a shapely ivory-skinned woman dress in dark, fitted clothing. Ebony locks contrasted with his own, cascading down and flipping outward on the ends, hiding most of the left side of her face. The one eye he could see stood out in the dim light; a light, shocking green, almost like they were glowing in the dark. She really was a stunning one.

"I've never seen your face around here," she said to him, smirking a little. Her voice had a silky smoothness to it. "What can I get for you?"

"Well that depends," he replied, leaning a little closer to her. "What's the best thing someone with a pretty little face like yours can offer?"

The bartender pulled back and turned toward the shelves behind her. Dante watched her pull out a dizzy cocktail glass and a few bottles. She combined the liquids in the bottle, added a few ice cubes and topped it off with an apple slice. "There you go."

"And there you go." Dante slipped her the payment for the drink and grabbed the glass. He could taste the burning vodka and the sweet red wine as it traveled down his throat. He let out a low whistle after eating the apple slice. "That's a damn good concoction you've got going there. Does it have a name?"

She started to return the bottles back to their respective shelves. "That is a Crimson Flame exclusive, a mild Scorpion's Kiss. If you think you're tough enough to handle it, you can try the daredevil version. It has more of a kick to it."

Dante's grin widened. "Babe, I can handle anything. Gimme your best shot." The bartender took his glass and refilled it. This time, however, she added less ice and topped it off with a pepper, a Black Scorpion Tongue.

"Still think you can handle it, big boy? This pepper is one of the hottest on the planet."

"Pssh, nothing's too hot for me. Not even you, babe." The devil hunter downed the entire glass before taking the pepper and eating it whole. It was hotter than he thought it would be. Small tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes. It'd been a long time since anything stung him physically, and he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Dante grabbed an ice cube from his glass and sucked on it to help ease the burning, which subsided after a few minutes. "See? What'd I tell ya?" He'd sure as hell feel that in the morning.

"Right, and you didn't suck on the ice to soothe the pain..." The bartender reached under the counter and pulled out a pepper of her own, along with a lighter. She lit the pepper on fire, and without blowing it off, slowly lowered the entire thing into her mouth. This caught the eye of several other customers. They watched beside Dante as she consumed the whole pepper and stuck her tongue out to show it was gone. "So does anyone want another round?" The group cheered and she started making another round of her famous drink. Dante had left the bar, but the woman always kept the demon hunter in sight. She didn't know what it was, but that particular customer of hers made her feel a bit unsettled – and she didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing. But she couldn't tell how. Perhaps it was his looks: those gorgeous glacial eyes of his, paired off with a near pale complexion and albino hair, completely opposing her dark locks and bright alluring stare. Or maybe it was his scent, strangely a mix of cortisol and inhuman blood, that of something which had been hunted.

The night turned into early morning as the partying began to wind down. There were only a few people left in the bar, including Dante and the bartender. Dante was tired; it'd been a long time since he'd partied like he had that night. His boredom had been completely lifted. Hell, he even scored some numbers from a couple of good looking girls. His tongue still stung from the pepper of the Scorpion's Kiss, but the demon slayer still enjoyed himself. Dante was just about ready to call it a night when a very faint scent hit him. There was a demon nearby, but where? His eyes darted around the room. No visible ones, so it had to be in disguise. Dante closed his eyes and smelled the air in an attempt to track the demon down. He got up and followed the scent's trail toward the bar counter, where the bartender was busy stocking all the glasses and bottles of alcohol. He was a few steps away when he was suddenly intercepted by another woman. She had an even better body than the bartender, barely covered by a tube top and some shorts. "You're not gonna leave without me, are you?" The woman spun around and walked toward the entrance, her blond hair brushing against his lips as she passed him, making him completely forget what he'd just been doing. Looks like he was able to score after all.

Dante followed the blond woman out of the bar and into the dark streets. It was almost empty outside. The demon hunter was now being dragged by his latest find, who seemed to be stumbling with each step she took. "You sure you don't want me to carry you, babe?" Dante asked her a second time. He didn't mind having some fun with a drunk woman, but he had to get her to his place first, and in one piece. And it was pretty difficult to do that when the woman he was planning to bed couldn't take five steps in a straight line.

"Don't be silly," she replied, slurring a bit. "I'm absotively posolutely a-okay." The woman giggled and grabbed his arm, pushing him against the wall. "Maybe I should show you how okay I am, hmm?" Before Dante could blink, the blond had his face in her hands and began sucking his lips dry. He tried to assume control to no avail and continued having the woman's hands feel him up. Just when he began to enjoy himself, the woman bit down hard on his lip and tugged on his skin, ripping a hole in it.

Dante immediately pushed her back and brought a hand to the small gash. He looked at the few drops of blood on his hand. "Take it easy, babe," he told her. More blood bubbled at the surface of the new wound and trickled into his mouth. "Damn. You bit down pretty deep..." It stung a bit, almost as much as the pepper. Dante looked back up at the blond. All of a sudden, she wasn't looking so hot. It looked like she'd sucked a lot more blood out from his lip than the wound showed; it almost seemed like it was foaming, like saliva. She also had a sadistic looking grin on her face, and her eyes were quickly changing color. Her face suddenly split down the middle, from her nose to her chin, and an ear-shattering shriek escaped from the hole in her head. Jagged, pointed teeth pierced through the newly torn skin, a mix of blood and heavy saliva dripping down in long strings. His former bounty for the night was now his intended target. "If that's how you wanna play, why don't you at least show me what you really look like?" The demon's tongue launched from its mouth and wrapped around Dante's torso, lifting him five stories up. Dante reached behind him and pulled out Ivory, and pointed it at 'her'. "Sorry, sweetheart, but that's not how you make it to third base." He pulled the trigger and shot several bullets into his date's face. The demon released its grip on him and stumbled back a few feet. Dante took in a deep breath. The scent he'd smelled before was at full blast now. "So you're the cause of that putrid scent."

The demon, still partially trapped in the human skin, ripped the rest of its body from the shell. It grew to three times its original size, now sporting slime covered pincers and legs. It looked more like a giant cockroach gone wrong. The once serenading voice of the blond was now a screech echoing through the streets. Dante looked down at his coat, seeing the saliva from the demon dripping off the coat tail. "Great," he complained, trying to wipe off the slick slime, "This is gonna take forever to wash out." His former catch of the day screeched a few more times before Dante decided he'd heard enough of it, and shot at it one last time. The giant bug-like creature swayed a little and fell backwards, dead. "Well, that's one thing taken care of." His glance moved to his leather coat again, forming a disgusted look when he saw the slime covering it. That certainly made his night a little less boring, but the excessive amounts of saliva on him and the thought of nearly being date-raped by a slimy cockroach in a blond shell threw off his good mood. He could go for another drink...if the bar was still open.

The sound of the back door of the bar opening pulled his attention away from all the sickening thoughts. He spotted the bartender stumbling out of the building, liquor bottle in hand. A Bacardi, at nearly three in the morning? She was busy giggling and singing to herself, interrupted by the occasional hiccup. Dante was a second away from approaching her when he realized he not only had demon saliva on his person, but greenish soupy blood had splattered all over his skin and shirt. It would be better for both of them if he kept his mouth shut and walked in the other direction- "Heyyyy! Albino man!" Well so much for her not noticing. The woman shot him a smile as she staggered over to him, tripping over her feet every few steps. What was it about that particular night that made wasted broads become attracted to _him_? If this one turned out to be another demon, he'd lose it. Dante readied himself, reaching behind him and grabbing Ebony's handle. The moment she made a move, he'd shoot. "Where's yurr GURRLFRENNN?" she almost yelled in his direction, giggle-snorting. She tripped over her boot for the eleventh time before she stopped in front of him and took another swig from her bottle. "I had a important kweschun fer hur...uhh...what was it agan?" _This_ was the same bartender he'd flirted with a few hours ago? She reeked of alcohol, more than he'd smelled off of any other woman. He'd have to try and understand this later, when she wasn't three inches away from him. "Hmm...You look diffferant sumhoww..." The black haired woman slowly circled him, tripping three more times and accidentally spilling some of her liquor on his shirt. Another stain he'd have to take care of.

Then she stopped right in front of him. Her eyes trailed up and down his body. "Waitaminit..." she mumbled, and laid a finger on his shoulder...right on where a blood stain had landed. "What's this on yur sholldur?" she asked, slurring even more. The bartender wiped off the green blood with her finger and sniffed it, and then sucked it all off. Dante's eyes turned into saucers at the sight of this, growing wider when she smiled and giggled. "Mmm...yummy. But why are you covered in guacamole?" Then she looked past him and gasped, pointing up to a distant building. "Whoa, what's THAT?" Dante immediately turned to see what she was pointing at, but it turned out to be nothing. When his attention shifted back to the bartender, she was gone. Dante had to do a double take. First she wobbles over to him while he's covered in demon bug remains, then she tastes some of its guts and suddenly vanishes?

Those few drinks Dante had were obviously getting to him. He needed to get home and hit the hay before any other drunk women decided to hunt him down.


	2. Chapter 2

As if he didn't already have problems with smoking hot women. The second he was back at his place, Dante ran for the shower. He couldn't stand the smell of the demonic innards that coated him after the thing exploded. To add to his disgust, the green snot-like stuff wasn't scrubbing off easily, neither from his skin or his coat. He cursed at himself, wishing he'd killed the bomb-in-a-bombshell-body before it had the chance to lay its grubby bug parts on him. While he scrubbed to the point of his skin glowing red, Dante remembered how fun the night was before he smelled 'her'. It actually hadn't been that bad of a time; sure, he went there by himself, but he'd gotten some phone numbers. They were...in his coat pocket. Dante grunted, whispering, "Stupid," to himself. "I really hope they're still legible." Aside from that, the only other highlight of the night was the bartender and her signature drink. What had she called it again? The Black Widow's Tongue? The Scorpion's Kiss, he finally remembered. Drinking that was the best part of the night – no, he thought, it had to be when the bartender ate the whole pepper on fire. That sent his senses reeling. He couldn't remember seeing anything that hot since the time he'd gotten Trish and Lady drunk enough to-

Other thoughts calmed his blood flow. The bartender was hot – in multiple ways – but he doubted those would be enough to rid him of seeing her lick demon remains off his shoulder like it was gummy candy. He doubted that even her drink could clear his mind of _that_, but he was still willing to try. Just not with her around. His mind finally cleared – at least for the night – when the slime began to clear from his skin. It dripped off in large lumps, looking like a severe case of phlegm. That wouldn't sit well in his stomach, especially when he remembered his coat was still covered in it. There went his future appetite. He was so glad to finally get the crap off his prized leather.

His problems only increased the next day. First the seemingly hot blond turned out to be a creepy crawler covered in a skin that screamed aphrodisiac; then the gorgeous bartender, who was way past inebriated, tasted a fingertip's worth of the demon's innards. And now, he was face-to-face with his co-workers, also women with amazing looks and bodies, whose complaints were rendering his eardrums useless. Dante was only half listening, as always, hearing every other word or sentence that left either Lady's or Trish's lips. Apparently the complaint this time was about him screwing up their latest deal to take out a small group of demons terrorizing someone's dogs. He just sat at his desk, feet propped on top, while flipping through the same dirty magazine he'd read cover to cover a thousand times before. It was much more interesting than whatever blabber Lady's lips were flapping about, even if he'd already seen the women in this issue. His distraction was short lived, though, when a gloved hand snatched the porno from his grasp, forcing his focus to the human woman. "Maybe NOW you'll pay attention to me when I'm talking."

"Yeah, yeah," he started, "I heard you bitch about it the first three times." He reached to his left, for the last slice of cold pizza from the week before, but she slapped the lid shut.

"I'm not done, yet, so apparently you didn't." Dante huffed and retracted his hand. "I told you to put that call in sooner. But I know you didn't, because the old man called my cell to tell me I'd have to make this deal 'more worth his while'. You know what that means, Dante? It means the price had to be lowered. And _that_ means my profits were lowered, too." She set a black briefcase on the desk top, shoving his feet off. "Four thousand. The original deal was fifty-five hundred."

"That's a twenty-seven percent profit loss," Trish added in. "I could've bought myself a nice pair of shoes with that extra money."

Dante rubbed his head and sighed. How was he still sane with hearing these business partners complain? He needed to get them out of his hair. "Look, I already told you what happened. I put the call in RIGHT after you told me to. But the old geezer said someone offered him a sweeter deal right before I called him. How was I supposed to know that would happen?" He stood up, stretching his arms to the ceiling, and pushed his chair in. "I did what I was told, so I'm not taking the heat just because your panties are twisted in knots. I owe you nothing."

Trish pouted her lips and crossed her arms, sitting on the desk. "Well I still insist that you make this up to us." She stared down at her nails, tilting her head. "Maybe you could pay for my next manicure."

"I'm not paying for you to get your nails painted," he complained. "Not for a manicure, not for any sort of waxing, and definitely not for purses and shoes you'll never use." He huffed and got up from his chair, stretching out. Hearing female rant was giving him a sore neck.

"Then why don't you pay for our partying for a night? Cover the tab for our drinks." Dante groaned, earning a scowl from Lady. "Come on. Trish and I haven't had a chance to relax. We've been busy on all these jobs for the last few weeks." He wasn't budging. She tapped her fingers on top of the desk. "We're not giving in on this, Dante. That's our only offer."

"Alright, fine," he caved, "just shut up about it already. But they can't be too expensive." Trish and Lady gave each other approving nods. "Okay, where do you want to go?" The corners of Trish's lips turned upward.

She got up from the desk. "The Crimson Flame."

"You're shit out of luck if you think I'm going back there."

"Why not?" Lady asked him. "And what do you mean,going _back_? You went there without us?"

He nodded. "Last night. It ended in an...unpleasant way." The women stared at him, waiting for him to continue. "Well...how do I put this? The bartender's a drunk. One of the patrons turned out to be a demon. I killed it. And then the bartender licked some of the demon remains off of me. Everything just turned me off."

"So you don't want to go back because of that? Pssh, you're such a baby." Lady started walking toward the door, Trish following close behind her. "The Crimson Flame. That's the bar, and it's not changing." Dante pinched between his brows. These women... Why did he allow himself to be bossed around by a human and a demon in the cloak of his mother? What was he so scared of that he would just follow their orders without hesitation? And then he remembered.

_'Oh, right. They have tits. And tits rule the planet.'_

Once at their destination, they were met with the line Dante had encountered the pervious day. The line moved quickly, like before, and they got in without a problem. Trish's face glowed in the strobe lights. "I don't see why you didn't want to come here," she yelled above the music. "This place is so alive!" She danced her way through the nearest crowd. "Hurry up! I'm not waiting for you!"

Lady, more calm than her companion, trailed behind her, bobbing and weaving out of the way of dancing patrons. "This place looks a lot smaller than I thought it would be," she shouted to Dante. "You sure this is just a bar?" He shrugged his shoulders and followed her. Many of the same faces were around from the night before. The ones who recognized him gave him a wave, which he returned, and a few new women shot him winks and blew kisses in his direction. He raised his hand to his ear in a 'Call Me' fashion and winked back. His focus returned to the path Lady was taking ahead of him. A large group of people had gathered near the back, where the bar counter was...

"No." He grabbed Lady's arm and pulled her back. She turned to him and tugged her arm out from his grasp.

She raised her sunglasses over her eyes. "What?"

"I'm not going over there."

"Why not?" She glared at him, but he wouldn't budge. "God, you're so dramatic. Trish is already over there. Now you're going there, too. Or have you forgotten that you're paying for our drinks?"Dante raised a finger to speak, but no words left his mouth. His hands were tied. All thanks to the bitcy pair of walking tits. His mouth closed and his hand lowered. "Good. Now come along." Reluctantly he walked the rest of the way to the crowd, zigzagging through the people to get to the counter. The mass of partygoers was tightly packed and loud, much louder than those dancing near the DJ. They managed to get to the front of the pack, where Trish was wildly throwing her hands in the air. The two saw what all the excitement was about. Two people were engaged in a shot drinking contest. A banner hung over the line of alcohol on the wall. **Monthly Drinking Contest**, it read, **Out-Drink Our Champion And Win Free Food And Drinks All Night! Have Your Name On The Wall Of Fame! **A young guy, appearing college age, was up against a woman with black hair, her left eye covered by bangs...

Not her. Anyone but the bartender. He couldn't look at her. The visions from her licking the slime off his coat prevented him from seeing anything other than a drunken woman stumbling into his filthy coat. It disgusted him. It was a shame, though, because she was hot. The noise from the crowd distracted him from the horrific thoughts. Everyone was cheering for the bartender, who'd beaten her challenger. He got up from the stool, head hanging low. "Dammit," he whispered to himself.

The bartender leaned back on her stool and smirked. "Whoo!" she hiccupped. "Alright! Who wants to challenge the champion next?" The people around them raised their voices, all hoping to be picked for the next round. Someone standing behind Dante accidentally pushed him forward, and he stumbled into the small empty space around the only available bar stool. He caught himself on the counter and looked up at his opponent. Her arms were crossed across her chest and she tilted her head back, smirking at him. "Well well well," she started, "if it isn't my favorite albino customer. I see you've come back for more than just a hot pepper." She raised her hand to the display of alcohol on the wall behind her. "As the challenger, you get to pick the poison."

He sat down on the stool and peered at each bottle. Lady came up behind him and tapped his shoulder. "She's beaten nine people so far," she yelled over the music. "She looks about ready to pass out. Win this, and Trish and I will be satisfied." She read the contents on each bottle. "That one." She pointed to a bottle with green liquid inside. "That should be enough to take her out."

He realized there was no way out of this. Sighing, he pointed to the same bottle as Lady. "Pull out the absinthe," he told the bartender. The throng of partiers 'oohed' in sync as Lady backed away from Dante.

"Going hardcore, I see," the bartender replied. She reached behind her and brought the bottle between them. Someone brought over two tall glasses to their section of the counter. "Alright, here are the rules." She began filling each of the glasses to the top. "First one to finish their entire glass and grab the bottle wins. But since I know you like challenges..." She reached down and pulled out ten peppers, the same ones used in her famous drink, and divided them equally between them. "We'll also add these. Finish your drink first, eat all the peppers and grab the bottle before I do, and you win. No specific order, just finish everything. You got it?" He nodded. "Good."

One of the patrons hopped on top of the counter and laid a hand between them. "Are you both ready?" He bangeded his hand on the counter. "Three...two...one...DRINK!"

Without hesitation, they each grabbed a pepper and shoved it into their mouths. She ate hers whole and went straight for her glass, with Dante following close behind. He managed to catch up to her on the second pepper, but she quickly regained the lead as she downed the absinthe. The third peppers were gone. The bartender was fast, he had to admit, but how could she be this fast after already taking down nine other competitors? He couldn't lose to her, not with what was at stake. He took his last two peppers in hand at once and bit into them. They burned even worse together, and the absinthe was only intensifying it. His peppers were gone. She still had one left. He only had to finish his glass, which only contained a fourth of his remaining liquid, grab the bottle, and his so called debt to his co-workers would be paid off.

"Fuck off!" the crowd heard someone yell. Everyone turned to the entrance, where three men were trying to force their way deeper into the bar. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for that bitch!"

A middle aged man held his arms out, attempting to keep them out. "I don't care who you're here for. You can't just waltz in here and-" The man in front of the pack sent his fist flying into his face, knocking him into a speaker. He held a hand up to hold his bloody nose. Before he could stand up, he was lifted up by his collar.

"Clear out the bar and find her," the burly man ordered. His three lackeys nodded and scattered around the bar. One of them made a beeline for the crowd gathered around the counter near the back. A few of the patrons saw him coming and ran toward the center, and tapped the bartender's shoulder.

"They're back!" he whispered in her ear. She groaned and set her glass down.

Dante watched as she stood up. "Sorry, honey," she apologized. "I've got a loose end I need to tie up." She hopped over the counter and stumbled backwards, hitting Dante's back. "Whoops!" she hiccupped, and regained her footing. "Whoo! Damn, that's some strong stuff!"

The man sent toward the counter, a stocky guy, grabbed people and shoved them out of his way. He made it to the clearing near Dante and stopped. "Hey, boss!" he yelled in the direction of the entrance. "I found her! She's over here!"

He gave a malicious grin. "Good..." He reached to his crotch and took out a small pistol, and fired a shot to the ceiling. Everyone ducked. "Clear the fuck outta here!" he yelled. "Or else you're all dead!" People dispersed immediately, heading for the exit nearest to them. The bartender stayed in place, leaning against the counter and drinking a beer she'd found abandoned nearby.

"Hey, Blondie," she called to Trish, "you mind picking up my friend over there? The one with the bloody nose? He's a little disoriented." She and Trish exchanged glances, the bartender widening her eye and pointing her chin in the direction of the injured man. "Do this and drinks are on me next time. For you and your little friends."

"Now that's a deal I like," she replied, and hurried over to him. She helped him into a chair and brought a handful of napkins to his nose.

Dante stood up. One, two, three four of them, all looking ready to kill someone. The one determined to be the ring leader made his way toward him. Instinctively, his hand moved behind him to grab one of his guns, only to find air occupying the space in their holsters. He cursed at himself and cracked his knuckles. It'd been a while since he had to rely solely on brute force to settle something.

"Don't think you're getting involved in this," he heard the bartender say to him. He glanced in her direction, only seeing hair, but her voice was stern.

"And why the hell not?" he argued. "You're way too inebirated to fight off one, let alone all four of them."

She pushed herself off the counter and tripped over her foot. She managed to hold herself up with an arm. "I'm fi – **hic** – ine," she argued back. "So shaddup." She spun her head around, cracking her neck, and stood up again. Once more she stumbled, right into Dante's arms. The absinthe, he assumed, was beginning to hit her, and hard. There was no way she'd be able to even throw a punch without falling over. But she had tits, and therefore, would be stubborn. He needed to associate with more men.


	3. Chapter 3

Trish grabbed another napkin and pressed it to the man's bloody nose, helping him tip his head back. His blood was getting under her nails, and she was getting annoyed. Was this _really_ worth free drinks the next time they went to the Crimson Flame? She shrugged her shoulders. With the reputation of their signature drink and top-of-the-line parties, she felt it was a fair trade. She could always get Dante to fix her manicure.

Her sight shifted to the scene taking place. Lady had ducked into the nearby bathroom. Probably to load a gun, she assumed. Dante, on the other hand, was still out in the open, clutching the bartender's arm as she swayed in place, both unarmed. The ring leader of the men who'd broken in was staring the two of them down, gun still in hand. He casually swung his arms and took residence in the nearest stool, resting his hand on the counter. "Well, well, look what we have here." His hand sprang up to support his head. "How did I know I'd find you here?"

Dante looked at the bartender, who sensed his questioning gaze. "My ex. His friends call him Scott, but I feel a more proper name would be Penisless Maggot." She pulled her arm out of his grasp and stepped over to the man. "So what brings you here today? Come to crash my party?" She finished the rest of the beer and threw the bottle aside. One of Scott's underlings was hit with it and crashed into the wall behind him, glass shattering in his face. She burped, and an "ahh" echoed from her throat.

"Azera, baby, please. I just thought I'd pay you a little visit. What's wrong with coming to say hi?" Scott pushed his stool closer to her and smiled, tapping his fingers on the counter. She and Dante could smell the intense alcohol flowing off his breath. "Oh, yeah. There was one other thing." In one swift motion, Scott's fist cracked across her face, throwing her off balance and sending her to the floor. Dante immediately shot up from his seat. "That's what you deserve for leaving me." He pushed the stool out from under him and stood up. "Did you really think your little stunt was going to work?" When she didn't reply and tried to pick herself up from the floor, he plowed his foot into her ribs. Dante stormed over to her, only to see Scott point his gun at him. "Hang on there, buddy," the drunk human continued as he casually waved the pistol around. "This doesn't involve you. Either fuck off or you get it between the eyes."

Dante sneered. He knew he could easily take this highly intoxicated man on, armed or not. Neither the gun nor the thought of taking a bullet were an issue. His eyes darted toward the windows, and he saw the bar's previous patrons looking inside. Having them watch him be dealt a fatal blow, only to stand up like nothing happened with a bullet through his head moments later, didn't feel like the best thing to do, not at the moment. And what if the drunk bastard started targeting them? He glanced behind him to Trish, who was flanked by one of Scott's lackeys, a second gun to her back. It was already too risky. As much as he hated to do it, Dante raised his arms in surrender and backed down. He _really_ regretted going into the bar.

Scott smirked. "There, isn't that better?" Keeping the gun pointed toward Dante, his attention went back to the woman on the floor. "Now before I was rudely interrupted, I think we were in the middle of a conversation. Let's get back to that." He kicked her in the stomach. "That one? That's for dumping me. This?" He kicked her a second time, sending her rolling a few feet away, and he followed after her. Dante moved with them, making sure to keep a small enough distance where he could act, but still keeping it wide enough where the human wouldn't do anything too extreme. He kept his gaze shifting from Azera to the gun. "That one's for spreading lies about me." Scott rested his foot on top of Azera's head, twisting it as he applied pressure. "I believe I still owe you one more, for fucking up the rest of my life. And I know just how to deliver it." He raised his foot high, ready to break through her skull and send brain matter spraying all over the venue.

As his foot flew down, he suddenly found himself unable to apply any further pressure. His leg shook from the forces pushing in both directions. Scott turned his knee so he could see what was preventing him from completing his revenge, and saw a hand curled around his boot. "How-" Before he could utter another word, the hand pushed harder, forcing him backwards. Scott watched as the woman stood up, quivering when up on her feet again. She shook the hair out of her face, revealing the swollen muscle in her face and fresh bruising under her eye. Dante saw the stunned expression in Scott's face and took the chance to deal with the human. He grabbed the gun-wielding hand and twisted it behind his back, forcing the weapon from his grip, and kicked it away. He wrestled the human to the ground and pushed on his back with his knee.

"Nice seeing you alert," he commented, holding Scott's arms in place. Dante was a bit amazed to see Azera standing and conscious. He knew not many people would stand so easily after being abused so brutally.

Her sight settled on Dante and her ex. "What did I fu – **hic** – cking say?" she shrilled. "I said he's mine!" Taking a step forward, she stumbled before regaining her footing. "Let 'im up."

He raised an eyebrow. "S'cuse me?"

"I said get off!" With a swift push, she moved Dante off of the drunk man, who promptly stood up and grabbed her hair and forced eye contact. Dante was ready to lunge. She waved a finger at him and shooed him away.

Scott wiped some splinters from his face. "So now you've got some asshole protecting you?" He shook his head, an angered laugh escaping his lips. It stopped when he heard Azera whisper. "What'd you say?"

"You're boring the shit out of me," Azera replied. Less than a second later, Scott was leaned over, holding onto his gut and coughing. Azera lowered her knee and crossed her arms. "In case you've forgotten, there's a reason behind what I did. I'm not some cheap little whore you can dispose of whenever you're bored." She didn't have to look around to know his backup was drawing closer to her. Scott forced himself to stand, scowling, feeling his pockets for another gun or knife. "You, on the other hand, are just that." He rose to a crouching state, wiping any saliva or blood from his chin as he pulled a switchblade from his back pocket. Azera's back was to him as she continued. "I don't know what I ever saw in you. Maybe I felt sorry for your ass and thought I'd be doing you a favor." Dante noticed the slight movement of Scott's arms from his peripheral vision and saw him hiding the blade behind his back. As Azera marched around and carried on with her speech, the human stood and charged in her direction. Dante quickly chased after him in an attempt to stop him from gutting the bartender where she stood, and she was still lost in her own words. "...Thus, that proves how pathetic you are. And so does THIS!" In one swift motion, Azera spun around and thrust her leg out toward her ex. The rubber bottom of her boot crashed into his forehead and the bridge of his nose, pushing him into the opposite direction. Dante immediately dodged the flying body, which smashed into the adjacent wall, creating a huge hole in it. The half demon's eyes were wide. Azera's foot was back on the floor when she faced him. "Why so surprised?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "I dated him for two months. His quirks were easy to pick up. Way too easy, in fact."

Watching the events unfold in shock, two of Scott's henchmen instantly ran for the woman. Again, Azera wasn't paying attention. "Shit," Dante whispered, as he ran for the nearest guy. Within seconds they were back-to-back, landing a serious blow on the enemy closest to them. "You know, you really should watch your surroundings before you get hurt."

"Oh, can it. I told you I got this." She bumped her behind into his, forcing him off of her at the same second Scott's short, chubby friend was headed her way. Azera ducked just as he ran over her and hooked her foot around his, tripping him. He tumbled into the second, ginger-headed lackey and they hit an abandoned table, landing face-first into the forgotten cheese covered nachos. The short one quickly got to his feet and lunged at her again, only to be intercepted by Dante.

"Either you're so drunk you're paranoid," he started, pushing against his foe in a battle of strength, "or you're just faking it." He easily overpowered the human and twisted his arms, forcing him down and punching him. His body twisted and he stumbled into the corner of the bar, hitting his head and instantly falling unconscious. Dante wiped his hands off on his pants and watched Azera half walk, half stagger over to the bar, finding yet another deserted drink. She brought the glass to her lips and drew in the scent of the alcohol. Just as she was going to drink it, she noticed the redhead waking up and preparing to charge to her. Her eye fell on Dante, who also took notice, and their eyes met. She nodded to him, giving him permission to deal with the brute. "As if I were asking," Dante said to himself, cracking his knuckles. In seconds he tackled the human like a football player and slammed him to the floor like a wrestler. The floor splintered like cheap wood and the lackey ceased all movement.

Azera downed the entire glass in one breath. "What does it matter that you didn't ask? They're my problem, not yours." She set the glass down and turned her attention to the other side of the space. Trish and her boss were still being closely monitored by the last henchman, who was pointing a small pistol at them from a few feet away. Their gazes met, her eye squinting, and his following. No words were spoken, but both knew what was about to happen. Azera made a run for it and his finger scrambled for the trigger. He found what he was looking for, but not before her hand grabbed his wrist and twisted it so fast that he let go of the weapon. His other hand made its way to strike her face but was met with air. He looked down to see a foot headed for his chin. It uppercutted him with great force, causing him to wobble backwards and land in a chair. Azera stood and kicked the gun up to her hand, twirling it around her finger. "I never understood why men held guns like that," she commented, and turned toward Trish. "Here." She handed the gun to her. "I have no use for crap like this. Maybe you can get something out of it." Trish accepted the gift with a smirk. Azera pulled a nearby chair up and sat next to them, her focus on the man between them. "Gus, how're you doing?" she asked.

He flashed her a thumbs-up. "Surviving," he replied in a nasal-y voice. "Although it's gonna be a bitch to set this thing back in place."

"Hang on, I've got it." Without waiting for his consent, Azera moved his hand from his face and snapped his nasal cavity back into position. He let out a short yelp and dug his nails into the upholstered seat beneath him. "How's that?"

As she conversed with him, Scott was starting to regain consciousness. His eyes flickered open and he took in everything that was going on. Dante was settling onto a bar stool, waiting for someone to pass him a beer. Trish was cleaning any blood off her hands and out from under her fingernails, muttering something about needing a new manicure. Gus was wiping his face and holding the bridge of his nose, complaining about the destroyed tables and floor. Azera was... Azera. His sight became red. She'd dumped him. She'd embarrassed him. She'd ruined his reputation with women. She'd kicked him into the wall and knocked him out. And now she was going to truly pay, now with her life. He scanned the floor and found his gun surprisingly close by. He easily reached for it and slowly rose from his crack in the wall. And then he picked up great speed for a large man, almost moving faster than a quarterback as he targeted his former lover. His steps were loud enough to gain everyone's attention, Azera's last. Dante jumped from his seat and ran forward. "Stop." He heard Azera yell to him and looked her way. "I already said, he's mine. She immediately ran in his direction. They were on the path to a collision, until she vanished. Dante's eyes could follow her with no problem: she'd slid under Scott's legs, forcing the man to slow down and turn around. Azera stood up and faced him, her expression calm. This time they walked to one another, until barely a foot of space stood between them. Dante didn't like this; at that range, the lunatic could do anything to her. He got closer to them. "Back up before I make you." Her tone was harsh, and he reluctantly replied, but only moved back one step. Her full focus was on Scott now, and his was on her.

He raised his gun to eye level and moved closer, pressing the barrel to her forehead. "You've got a lot of guts doing what you did," he said to her, his face contorted into some form of rage. "But you're going to pay, in the one way you can pay for everything." He watched her, waiting for a fearful reply, waiting for her to beg for her life. But the only response he got was a yawn, her eyes bored.

"Are you finished yet?" she asked. "Good, because I hate speeches...of course, unless I'm giving them. Azera laid her hand on top of his and forced the gun deeper into her skin. "You think you're such a man, Scott? Then do it. I'm not stopping you. Do it if you have the balls...and while you still do have them." He blinked, confused. She looked down and his eyes followed, discovering a stiletto on the side of her already sharp heel resting against his crotch. "Of course, if you're not man enough, I can always rip you a new one. I know you like it that way."

A single shot was fired. Scott fell to his knees again, this time holding his bloodied crotch in his hands, while Azera was still standing, her face hidden behind her hair. She shook it out of her face, revealing no wounds, and stepped over to Scott. She slapped the gun from his shaky hand and grabbed his shirt collar, lifting him a few inches from the ground. Dante was taken aback. The only woman he'd ever seen with such strength was Trish, mostly due to her demonic being. He watched Azera closely. "Now I've got a few words for you," she started, "so listen well." Gus and Trish observed a few curious bar patrons poking their heads through the door, and one or two even stepping into the bar. She and Dante slowly went around the perimeter to keep the patrons a safe distance from the scene, but their ears listened for Azera. "Today, you're not a man anymore, and you never will be one again. You'll have to piss from plastic tubes from now on. You'll never get the pleasure of sex again. No woman will ever love you from this point on. And if I ever see your cowardly face again – whether it's near my bar or just in the street – I'll remind you of why you're not a man. Because this-" one hand slid from his collar to his crotch, and she tightly squeezed it, enough to make him cry- "This belongs to me now. You don't have the pleasure of using it anymore." Azera let go of his injury and leaned her face close to his. Her lips brushed lightly against his cheek and she gave him a small kiss. "Au revoir," she whispered before setting him down and kicking him toward the door. "Grab your friends on the way out. Same goes for them." As the men regained consciousness and stumbled to the exit with their fallen leader, the bar's patrons gradually came back in and started to applaud her. She wiped her hands on her pants and trotted back behind the bar counter, and set out a dozen freshly cleaned glasses. "Anyone care for a drink?"

Lady emerged from the bathroom and rejoined Dante and Trish. "And just what were you doing in there the entire time?" Dante questioned her. "You could've helped us out instead of hiding."

"I wasn't hiding," she snapped at him. "The chef and DJ pulled me in there with them. They were cowering like a couple of babies and begged me to keep them safe from those guys." She pat the holster on her hip. "It's a good thing I was armed, unlike someone I know."

"Hey, hey, I managed without."

The loud music was back on and a comfortable air quickly returned to the patrons. Someone came up to the trio and laid a tray on the table near them. "Azera said it's on the house," he told them before returning to his group. They saw her through a space between partying people, serving drinks and performing bartender tricks as if nothing had ever happened. She met their gazes and held up a glass of her own concoction to them, mouthing a 'nice work'. Trish and Lady toasted her back, but Dante watched. Her skin was flawless, unmarked from the fight that had taken place less than an hour before. No bruising, no blood, nothing. Only the smiling face of a drunken woman. And the way she'd lifted up the man before... He had to have been at least two hundred pounds, and she barely did it with a single arm. It didn't sit right with the demon slayer.

He stood up. "I'll be right back," he told his co-workers. Dante set down his beer and started weaving his way through the crowd. Something told him this chick wasn't normal.


	4. Chapter 4

Azera wasn't that surprised to see Gus running around like he had no injuries. His broken nose had been bandaged up and he was immediately back to work, ignoring the pain to help serve food and drinks to all their customers. "Another round of Scorpion's Kisses!" she yelled to him over the booming music, and slid four full glasses down to the end of the counter. Not a single drop was spilled as he caught them and laid them on a tray to be served to those who ordered them. The chef set down three plates of food on the space between the bar and kitchen, and rang the tiny bell he knew Azera could easily hear. She grabbed the plates and set one down directly in front of her, passing the other two to people reaching over the counter. Her coordination astonished most first-time patrons, who wondered how she could prepare the perfect drink, serve food, and collect payment, all so quickly and without missing a beat. As she prepared the next round of orders, she felt a hand pull on her shirt. She turned around and saw Dante taking over an unoccupied stool. "Need a refill?" she asked.

"What's your game?" he asked her, raising his voice over the music. "There's no way you could've lifted that guy so easily. You're not an ordinary chick, are you?"

"Never said I was," she replied as she put together another order of alcohol. "I am the bouncer here. But maybe I'm just a great multitasker, too. Why so curious?" Azera pulled a fresh beer bottle out from under the counter and effortlessly twisted the metal cap off, and waved it in front of him. He took the bait and she turned away for a second to refill her own glass.

He raised an eyebrow. "Straight vodka?"

"Yeah," she replied, and downed half the glass. "I like my liquor how I like my men. Hard, cold, and rough." She set the glass down, and as suddenly as her cheery vibe had returned following the fight, she cringed and laid a hand on her chest.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "Just heartburn." Her hand shook as she grabbed the glass and drank the remainder of the alcohol. "It'll go away in a minute." But the pain only increased. Her hand gripped the counter and she bared her teeth, a hiss escaping her lips. "Gus..." she called to her boss, who quickly saw her expression and writhing in agony.

"Azera." He was immediately at her side. "Go get some air. Ricky and I can watch over the counter." She nodded and made a beeline for the bathroom. Dante wandered away from the counter and wove through the crowd toward the bathroom, and he could easily hear sounds of puking and violent coughing. He didn't know whether to burst in there and check on her, or wait until she came out, and the sounds were getting worse. As he thought about his options, the woman emerged from the bathroom, appearing pale under the blinking lights.

"Shit, are you alright?" he asked her. Azera replied with a simple nod, her stare blank, and wiped what looked like dark blood from her mouth. She staggered with each step she took, and had to hold onto the wall for support. Dante wasn't buying it. This chick was beyond hung over, plus with the beating she'd recently suffered... "That's it." He scooped her arm and rested it behind his neck and pulled her up. He grabbed one of the patrons and began to speak. "Tell her boss she's going home. She's in no shape to continue working." The woman gave him an okay and wandered to the bar counter as he made his way toward the exit, half carrying Azera across the room. Her feet dragged as she struggled to walk. They made it out of the door and a quiet air took over. The outside was much darker than the flashing lights inside the Crimson Flame. Dante knew his co-workers would be on his ass for not being there to pay for their drinks, but they were supposed to be on the house for the night, so they had no reason to whine to him. Azera eventually passed out and he ended up having to carry her bridal style down the street, earning strange glances from those who passed by them. He knew at least one of the faces assumed he'd drugged the woman to have his way with her. Dante had no idea where he was going to drop her off. She'd said nothing about where she lived, or if she even lived in the city. Every few steps, he would hear her whimper in her unconscious state, her hand moving on its own to clasp the area right below her collar bone. He prayed that she wouldn't barf on him as he carried her.

Reluctantly, he settled on taking her to his place. Her whimpering stopped as he arrived to the block his place was on. Dante kicked open the door and carried the bartender to the couch. He set her down on the upholstery and wiped some sweat from his forehead. "Finally," he said to himself. But what was he supposed to do now? He had an unconscious woman in his home, and normally that wouldn't be a problem. If it weren't for her crazed drunken state, and current sickened condition, Dante would be able to look past all the insane things she'd done. Maybe he'd be able to see her the same way he did when he first walked into the Crimson Flame: the gorgeous, intoxicating dark-haired bartender with the smooth voice and enticing eyes. And maybe he'd be able to make a move on her, like he almost did before. Dante sat on the arm of the couch and stared at her. There was no way she'd be waking up until at least the morning.

"My head..." he heard her suddenly mutter. Azera's eyes peeled open and she squinted, expecting to see the bright lights of her bar. Darkness was the only thing she saw, and her eyes opened all the way. "Where am I?" She looked up and saw Dante staring back at her. "Oh...it's you. Where'd you take me?" Slowly, she sat up, holding her head in one hand and pushing her hair away with the other. "I need a drink."

"A please would be nice." he told her, standing up and heading to the fridge. "What do you want?"

"A beer."

He looked at her from behind the fridge door. "You're kidding, right? You just got wasted, and now you want another beer? I don't think so. You're getting water instead." Dante closed the fridge and made his way to the sink. He grabbed a nearby glass and filled it to the top, and brought it to her. She groaned before taking it from him and downing half of its contents.

"...Thanks," she grumbled, still holding her head.

Dante pulled a nearby chair toward the couch and sat down, leaning his chin on his folded hands. "You still didn't answer my question from before. How did you take that idiot down back there?"

Azera finished the rest of her glass and set it on the floor. "He was drunk. It was easier than I made it look." She slowly stood herself up and staggered. Dante was quicker than her and caught her, his hands landing on both sides of her waist. Their eyes met as skin made contact with skin, and the air grew cold. He tried to find some sort of answer in the one eye of hers he could see, the harlequin green that brightened the vast hair that was darker than the deepest reaches of space. She, in turn, studied the expression in his, seeing the concentration in the sky blue that heightened his snowy hair's luster in the dim light. He truly was a looker, and he could say the same for her. Then, in a moment of spontaneity, Azera grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced her lips onto his. His eyes widened, shocked by her sudden action, as he felt her hot breath travel into his mouth. She paid no attention to his surprise, instead laying her free hand on the back of his neck and bringing her body closer to his. Still taken aback by her actions, Dante began to feel himself submitting to her. His hands tightened around her waist and he started to explore her exposed skin. Her tongue made its journey across their joined lips to meet his and they entwined themselves. Then as suddenly as she'd done it, Azera backed off, separating herself from Dante. He stared at her, eyes half lidded, as she slowly licked her lips, and stood up. "Consider that my thanks to you. I'm sure that was more than enough to repay you, right?" She gave him a quick smile and turned around, walking toward the door.

Dante nearly jumped out of his chair and chased after her. "Hold on a second."

And before he knew it, Azera had stopped him from grabbing her and bringing her into another hot moment. "Patience, darling. You know where to find me if you're in need of a good time." With her finger tracing the shape of his lips, the bartender opened the front door. "See you around, Dante." Again he was surprised, wondering how she knew his name, but before he could ask her, the black haired woman vanished in the night.

"Well, that was unexpected," he commented while closing the door, and cursed at himself when he felt an uncomfortable sensation below his belt. "Dammit..." He needed to cool off. Dante decided a shower was in order to clear his head. He headed to the second floor and entered his bedroom, grabbing fresh clothes before walking into the bathroom. He locked the door, feeling relieved Lady and Trish hadn't been around to witness him become putty in a random hot woman's hands. Just the thought of her lips against his brought the uncomfortable sensations back. He cursed at himself again and immediately turned on the cold water.

The water helped him regain control over his body, and Dante was quickly able to think clearly again. He sighed in relief and turned the water off, grabbing the nearest towel. He dried his hair and skin, and started to get dressed. As he pulled his pants up, something caught the demon hunter off guard. A strong scent hit him, and as much as he tried to fight it off, the smell wouldn't quit. It was a strange mixture, one he didn't expect, that of lavender and ginseng that filled the air. The aroma was all over the bathroom, and it flooded all through his home and office. It was almost hypnotizing. If he were a normal human, he wouldn't have questioned its origins, and would've either sat around and gotten high off the smell, or ran off to investigate where it was coming from. Part of him wanted to find out what was causing it. He settled with his gut feeling and grabbed his guns, tucking them in the back of his pants as he pulled open the front door.

Pink smoke was everywhere. The scent grew twice as strong, and it hit Dante harder than before. It was truly intoxicating, bringing him to suspect if it was a demon's doing. He followed the aroma down the street, feeling his mind begin to cloud the further he went. And he didn't know if it was the smoke or his imagination, but Dante swore he heard someone whispering his name. At first he thought it was his imagination, but the voice grew louder. "Dante..." it called through the streets. Now he knew he wasn't hallucinating. "Dante..." it called to him again, growing more enticing with each repetition. Erotic moans accompanied the voice in saying his name. It got louder as more smoke accumulated. "Dante..." Turning down an alleyway, Dante found the source of everything. A figure stood before him, tall with curves in all the right places, and he knew it was a demon. Her skin, a matte gray, was barely covered in black scales, the only large patches coating along her breasts and groin. Spike trailed all across her body, leading to two oversized claw-like structures hanging off her right arm. He easily spotted a long, spiny tail swaying to either side of her, and her white hair floated around her, coated in the same shade of blood red as her irises. She truly was a strange looking demon, one he'd never encountered before. Dante tucked a hand behind him and reached for one of his guns. The demon's hair moved through the air to reach him, beckoning him to come closer. He took one step forward, and when she didn't lunge at him, he took another.

"That's right," she said to him, her voice coated in several different tones, "there's nothing to fear." More of the familiar pink smoke emerged from her mouth as she spoke. Dante took a deep breath, smelling more of the lavender-ginseng mixture, and suddenly felt a little calmer. His grip on Ivory loosened as his stance relaxed. "There. Isn't that better?"

"Who are you?" Dante asked, seeming to be in a sudden daze. The scent was making him feel different from moments before. His muscles no longer felt tense, and his head felt clearer. Thinking was easier, and he could easily see the beautiful woman standing in front of him.

"I'm Calvaro," the demon replied, her hair caressing his cheek. "But I can be whoever you want me to be. I am your greatest fantasy." Before he could register it, she was directly in front of him, leaving only a few inches of space between their bodies. Her hand replaced the hair feeling his skin and she moved closer to him, parting her lips. "Relax," she whispered to him, sending more of her breath into his nostrils. "And submit..." Her hair started to wrap around his legs, and the pointed tip of her tail sneaked behind him, readying itself to plunge into his neck. "It'll be over soon..."

Dante drew his guns and started firing. Calvaro's grip on his leg tightened as she backed up, leaping out of the way of his bullets. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he commented, "but your little aphrodisiac doesn't work on me." He was suddenly pulled into the air by her hair, hanging upside down as the demonic strands coiled themselves around the lower half of his body. Dante didn't struggle against her, instead pointing Ebony between her eyes and firing again. She raised her clawed arm and blocked the bullet from hitting her. She suddenly let him go and raised her bare left arm. A swarm of scorpions dug their way out from under the ground and marched toward Dante. He didn't hesitate to shoot each one of them, but for every one he killed, six more would appear.

The succubus hissed at him, and without another word, vanished in a cloud of pink smoke. The scorpion demons diminished in numbers, and soon they were all gone. Dante fanned the smoke away from his face and turned back toward his house. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but whatever it was, he could tell it was big.


	5. Chapter 5

"A succubus?" Lady inquired after returning from a job the next day, somewhat annoyed from the amount of time it took to complete. The news of a succubus running amok was more of a surprise than a concern to her. "Didn't expect to hear that. I thought you dealt with the only one. Any leads on where she came from?"

Dante shook his head, lifting a slice of the fresh pizza he'd recently ordered. "Nope, and no clues on her purpose, either." He paused briefly to bite off a section of the slice. "Pretty much showed up out of the blue last night. Right after that crazy bartender left-" He realized what he'd said and stopped mid-sentence, causing himself to choke on the food in his mouth.

"Right after _what_?" Her hand slammed against the tabletop. "Dante, you better not have done anything to get us banned from the Flame. Or I swear to God, I'll shoot your-"

"Babe, relax." He held his hands up in defense. "There's no way I'd tap that in her condition. Have a little respect for me. I'm not _that_ bad of a guy." The flare in her eyes calmed at his words and he continued eating in peace. "So did you get your fill last night?" he asked her between chews.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose. My vibe was taken down a notch after those idiots broke in, but that bartender managed to salvage the night. What was her name again?"

Dante swallowed the food, answering his partner, "I heard her boss call her Azera." Just saying her name was enough for him to remember everything that happened between them the night before, from her collapsing in his arms to her kiss... She had to still be drunk when she did it. And the way she recovered from that hangover was way too quick for anyone...at least anyone normal. Everything about the bartender was making him suspicious, unsettled. If he had to deal with another person hellbent on destroying the world or taking over it, his head was going to explode. He was beyond tired of all the mayhem. "So when's Trish supposed to be back?"

"Hell if I know," Lady shrugged. "As long as she's raking in the dough, I could care less." The phone rang shortly following her reply, and before Dante could get a hand on the receiver, she whisked it away. "Hello," she said, then listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Her brow furrowed. "Okay, but-" She was cut off by the speaker. "But we had a deal, in writing. So now you're just gonna-" Lady listened again, her free hand clenching into a fist atop the desk. "Fine," she growled, and slammed the phone down. Her fist collided with the desk, her teeth bared. She slowly looked up at her partner. "We lost another job..."

"What?" Dante exclaimed, jumping out of his chair. Lady sank, holding her head in one hand and keeping the other closed. Both of them were fuming, her more than him. The business the two had built over the course of several years was very successful; being the only one that dealt with demonic activity since the fall of Temen-ni-gru, the partners had every demon slaying job to themselves. Business continued to boom when Trish joined them, though she tended to act more as a silent partner from time to time. But over the last few weeks, clients had been calling them to either negotiate paying a lower price or cancel their appointment completely. The calls became more frequent in the past few days, and the latest one had the potential to bring a lot of money back into the business.

His partner took a deep breath, trying her best to regain her composure. "I think it's the same person as all the rest. His argument alone was similar to the others." A heavy sigh escaped her mouth. "He said this person gave him 'an offer he couldn't refuse'. Wonder what that meant."

Dante could only respond with a shrug. The drop in appointments was quite alarming, and if it continued on like this, who knew how much longer their business would thrive, or even cease to exist. With a silent thought, he slapped his hand against the desk and stood up. "Come on, we need a drink."

"Did you not hear anything I just said?" his human partner snapped, leaning near enough where she could whack him if she wanted to. "We're running out of money, Dante. We haven't got any to splurge on alcohol this time." Her face turned redder with each enraged word leaving her lips. "This isn't like the money you owe me. You know damn well that if this continues, for even a month, we won't be able to afford doing this anymore."

His defensive state came up again. "I know, I get it. But if we're going to get to the bottom of this, we need to go in with clear minds. Getting a little loose will help. And I'm not saying we need to get hammered, just relaxed. We'll take care of this _and_ the succubus." Dante leaned against his desk and awaited Lady's reply. She tapped a finger to her chin, letting his idea sink in. A few nods later she pat his arm and headed for the door,

"You already know the place," she murmured when he caught up. The demon slayer grunted, annoyed; he knew he'd have to go along with her request if he wanted to keep her calm, and with the day's loss in profit, the last thing he needed was an irate partner. He locked up the shop and followed after her to the Crimson Flame, planning ways to avoid seeing the green-eyed bartender.

* * *

><p>They were only steps away from the main entrance to the Crimson Flame when the partners heard people cheering for them. A quick glance at the two brought instant recognition from the night before, and not a soul in the crowd waiting to get into the bar stayed silent when the heroes approached. Dante quickly got sucked into the excitement when a group of women jumped in excitement and reached for their savior, wanting to touch and talk to the man who helped Azera deal with the cretins that stormed in. Lady, already beyond vexed from the phone call, grabbed him by the collar and yanked him away from his fan club, who groaned when he was pulled from their circle. He pointed to the door and mouthed a message to them, saying he'd meet them inside. They were greeted at the entryway by a bulky man who took a closer look at them before allowing them inside ahead of the waiting crowd. A few people on the line complained, but were quickly silenced when the situation was explained to them.<p>

Even on a Thursday night, the Crimson Flame was loud and energetic. The partiers inside gave the hunters another round of applause when they went in, some shaking their hands and patting their backs. A pathway was cleared for them to head for the bar counter. Lady moved down the clearing apace, not bothering to wait for her partner. Dante wasn't in any hurry to join her; the longer he went without seeing the bartender, the better for his sanity. He decided to look for a way to kill time, and found a group of familiar people from the night before, some whose numbers he'd received, and joined them on the dance floor. "You were amazing last night!" one of the women – a redhead – yelled to him over the music. A guy standing on the other side of her grabbed a beer bottle from the table near them and handed it to Dante.

"This one's on me, man!" Dante nodded in thanks and twisted off the top, taking a long sip.

Lady was on her second drink, and despite the lost job earlier, was starting to relax. She remained quiet for most of the time, watching the bartender work her magic behind the counter. Her partner was right about one thing: how she kept up with sending orders into the kitchen, preparing drinks and serving everyone without breaking a sweat wasn't something most people could accomplish. Even the most skilled bartenders sometimes slipped up, but Azera paced herself with grace and never missed an order. Other than that, nothing about her seemed out of the ordinary...not that many things she countered were near ordinary. The heterochromatic woman assumed Dante was just being paranoid, and felt she needed to calm his nerves before he ruined her chances of ever returning to the most popular nighttime hangout in the city. She leaned forward and tapped the bartender's shoulder, and immediately got her attention. The black haired woman turned to face her as she filled five glasses. "Need a refill?"

"I'm good for now," she replied, gesturing to her half-full glass. "Just trying to figure out what my partner finds so odd about you. He says you're a 'drunken psycho', or something along those lines." Both women chuckled at the ridiculous notion. "Personally, I believe he's just overreacting."

Azera shrugged her shoulders. "I don't blame him. With all the assholes and dangers lurking on the streets, I'd be paranoid, too." She paused and grabbed a full glass sitting behind the counter to take a gulp of its contents. "But I have a party to run every night, so I have to keep my cool for my guests. Who else would run the show if I weren't here?"

"Your business partner? He seems able to take a punch." She finished off her drink.

"True," she agreed, "but he still needs me. Just like the city needs you to protect its citizens from the monsters hiding in the shadows." She slid Lady's empty glass closer to her.

It took less than a second for Lady to catch on, and her eyes widened. "How'd you-"

"You three had everyone's attention last night. Not to mention my chef and DJ wouldn't stop talking about you. Turns out a few of my patrons have seen you guys in action." The huntress calmed and sat back on the stool. "Word travels fast in the Crimson Flame, but don't worry: nobody finds you three weird. In fact..." Azera leaned closer to whisper in hear ear. "The DJ can't take his eyes off of you." A subtle blush overtook Lady's cheeks and she peeked over her shoulder, seeing the DJ glance in her direction and gesture to her.

She shook her head. "I think I'll pass. But if he ever needs some demons taken care of, he can let me know." As the women continued to converse and Azera passed out drinks, they heard voices collectively escalate. A few yells later, a young man came up next to Lady, his body tensed.

"Just thought you should know some guys over there are close to going at it," he told Azera. "They're bumping into everyone around them."

"Great..." she muttered. "Clear the way." The patron stepped to the side and everyone picked up their drinks. Lady took notice and lifted her glass moments before the bartender leaned on the counter for leverage and hurled her body over to the other side. It was mid-jump when Lady happened to see Azera's bangs fly away from the left side of her face, allowing her to briefly spot a sliver of a dark red marking on the outer corner of her eye. The moment vanished as her feet hit the floor, and she watched her follow the anxious customer to settle the commotion.

On the other side of the bar, Dante was none the wiser to the men seconds from wrestling each other. The company of women surrounding him kept him distracted, and he only started to notice something was amiss when the bartender's familiar voice broke his vibe. "What are you two meatheads doing?" she howled in the direction of the uproar. Assuming she was coming for him and the other guy in the group, the demon slayer quickly turned on heel and readied himself to make a mad dash if she saw him. His luck pulled through when she stormed through the crowd without as much as a passing glance in his direction. With her occupied in a different area, he felt it was the best time to get a drink from the bar, hopefully from the other – more normal – bartender. Dante twisted and nudged his way through people who were eager to see their bouncer teach the ignoramuses a lesson, all the while listening to the confrontation. "You'd better put that bottle down if you know what's good for you!"

He successfully made it the bar, which had emptied a bit, and he took the stool to Lady's right. She didn't have to look to know it was him and kept her eyes on her glass. "If there was any reason at all for you to be paranoid about her," she began, "it'd only be her information circle. She knows what we do." His focus shifted from asking for a beer to his partner as the information sank in. "But she's cool about it. As far as we're concerned, she just sees us as paying customers." Lady returned to her drink, telling the man behind the counter she wanted another. Dante was pretty astonished at how she'd taken the news. For years, the trio had made it difficult for people to track them down; the only way someone would be able to contact them was a password handed off by only certain people, and those people remained incognito to most of the public.

"You sure about that?" he asked after requesting a beer. "You're awfully 'lax."

"Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe I trust her. She doesn't look the type to carelessly spread sensitive information." She shrugged her shoulders, and while she left Dante to think about it, she turned the other way to a hand demanding her attention. "That was quick."

Azera's wave of energy from minutes before had significantly diminished, and she huffed with each breath she took in. Dante saw and felt a little relieved; seeing her out of breath made her look more human. "I need your help," she told the huntress before eyeing Dante, and shifted so she stood in between them. "Those jerks making a mess over there aren't...'normal'." She drew closer to them and whispered, "Demons."

"How can you tell?" Dante asked, his suspicion of her coming back.

"They were throwing glass at each other. Either they're demons or drunken superhumans. I kicked them out, but I'm sure they'll try to come back in. Can you take care of them for me?" Azera reached into her pocket and pulled a money clip out, placing the stack in Lady's hand.

Lady didn't hesitate to count the money, and within a moment jumped off the stool. "Say no more, Azera. We've got this." She signaled for Dante to follow her, and as he got up and Azera backed away to continue working, he grabbed her arm.

"It's you, isn't it?"

Azera glanced at him over her shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He responded to her tone with a glare. "You're armed like you're going to war. Power like that's only needed for a slaying job." He let go of her, allowing her to face him. "And I can't help but notice the faint trace of blood stench seeping from your skin. So what's your angle?"

The bartender crossed her arms. "Dante, Dante..._you're_ the infamous demon hunter in town, not me. I'm just a lowly bartender looking out for the safety of my customers." She tilted her head upward and stepped forward, her arms brushing on his chest. "Maybe if you and your friends were better at your jobs, your clients wouldn't come running to me to clean up your mess." With her face so near, even in the darkened interior of the bar, Dante picked up on darkened veins running down the left side of her neck whens she flipped her bangs at him.

He leaned down to her level and kept his voice low. "If you've got a complaint about our services, I'm sure my partner would love to hear it," Dante told her, keeping his sight on the murky plum that spread through her arteries. The further it moved, the quicker he saw the color begin to drain from Azera's face. "And if I were you, I'd give more detailed answers for what happened to you last night."


End file.
